


Bombs, Brownies and Beautiful Men Who Want to Kill Me

by saymynamedarling



Series: Jon goes to Zumba class [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Bomb mention, Crack, Gen, Jon goes to Zumba, Martin is trying very hard, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Paranoia, Season 2 ish, feral archivist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:40:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24457624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saymynamedarling/pseuds/saymynamedarling
Summary: Jon finds a mysterious gift in his office and goes ape shit.  Martin suffers.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Pre-Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Series: Jon goes to Zumba class [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766500
Comments: 3
Kudos: 34





	Bombs, Brownies and Beautiful Men Who Want to Kill Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure crack I wrote to get my writing greases flowing. Hope ya'll like it, I will be posting more as I write.

Jon stared at the handkerchief on his desk. It was buttercup yellow like the colour hipsters wore while typing up mediocre poetry in a Starbucks and it lay almost innocently on top of the two-foot-tall pile of statements he was supposed to finish up today. There was a vague bump underneath it.

What was it? Jon wondered, taking a step closer. A small rat hiding underneath so it could bite him and give him rabies when he picked it up? He moved around his desk slowly, crouched low, and surveying the offensive item from all angles. There were small white flowers stitched into one corner of the offending cloth. Maybe a spring trap of poison that activated under pressure? Whatever it was, it was obviously lethal and put there to initiate his death. A small magnifying glass was fished out of Jon’s pocket and held up to the ‘handkerchief’. Huh. On a second look, those flowers looked very artfully embroidered. Maybe the Web had a hand in this?

“Jon, what are you doing?” 

Jon threw the magnifying glass into the dark recess between two archive shelves and turned to face a very startled looking Martin. 

“Martin!” He exclaimed. “Learn to knock!” Wait. More importantly. “Why are you in here?” Either he was here to kill Jon off or he would be killed when the package set off. 

Martin held up a thick folder. It had a lot of very bright, multi-colour Hello Kitty page markers sticking out from the edges. “I have the follow up of the Gurnagham case?” He frowned, taking in the scene. “Jon, are you feeling alright?” He asked, stepping dangerously close to where Jon was crouched beside his desk. “Did you get - “

“Don’t come any closer!” Jon screamed, performing a perfect roll and putting himself in between Martin and the dangerous package (privately, he was a little impressed with himself and hoped he looked as cool as he felt at that moment). With a grace he had never possessed before in his life, Jon leaped to his feet and pushed Martin away, who in turn remained solidly in place because Jon was still scrawny and five feet tall. God, he really needed to start going to Zumba classes again.

“Jon!” Martin said, looking alarmed. He brought a large hand to rest on Jon’s shoulder. Jon tried not to lean into it but was very warm and comforting so he leaned into it anyway. “Jon, what’s wrong?” He glanced around the office, which looked how it always looked; like Jon had been living there for months in full conspiracy mode. When he found nothing he turned back to Jon and asked, very gently, “Is it another spider? Want me to take care of it?”

“No, Martin,” Jon replied scornfully. Didn’t the man have eyes? Couldn’t he see the very dangerous object in the room? “There is an unidentified foreign object in my office and I am trying to find out what it is!”

“There’s a UFO in your office?” Martin asked, voice oddly strained. Jon narrowed his eyes at him. Martin’s face spasmed oddly but then went resolutely blank. Suspicious! 

“UFO’s are flying objects, so no,” he replied slowly. “The object in question is an unknown object hiding underneath a questionably cheerful piece of cloth.” He gestured to the questionable piece of cloth, not taking his eyes of Martin. Those big, green eyes widened traitorously as Martin realised what Jon was talking about. Aha!

“Know anything about that,” he asked flatly. _“Martin?”_

“Er, yes,” Martin said hesitantly, hastily withdrawing his hand from Jon’s person when he saw Jon’s expression. He backed back until his back hit the doorframe. “I left it there! It’s a brownie! Not a bomb!”

“I didn’t say it was a bomb!” Jon hissed, breathing heavily and retreating into the depths of the archives. He needed to put distance between himself and Martin. 

Martin held up both hands, a thoroughly miserable expression pasted on his face. “Alright, alright,” He said. “Would you let me pick it up and show you? I didn’t booby trap it, I swear.”

This seemed like a trap. Martin stood there, all six foot plus of his chubby frame somehow radiating anxious energy. His glasses were slipping down his lovely button nose, Jon noted through narrowed eyes. And why was he sweating so much? It couldn’t be because Jon had turned off the air conditioning in the archives to prevent airborne poisons. No, Martin was playing games with Jon. Games he intended to win.

“Fine,” Jon replied casually, crouching low on the ground and skittering to the far corner of the room. “You can remove the ‘brownie’ from my office and prove to me that it's not a bomb.” He scrutinized Martin for any tells when he said bomb. However, all he managed to parse from the other man was disbelief. Hmm. Didn’t think Jon would take the bait, did he?

Martin took a few hesitant steps towards Jon’s desk. He threw a glance at Jon in the corner, who had started piling up the boxes full of fake statements in front of him to make a makeshift barricade while keeping an eye on Martin. Shaking his head, Martin reached out to grab the handkerchief. Jon let out an aborted scream as the dark brown surface of the brownie was revealed.

“Oh,” he said stupidly. 

_”Oh,”_ Martin replied tiredly. He took the brownie and turned to leave, shoulders slumped, and looking very defeated. 

Jon blinked as his office door closed gently behind Martin. It hadn’t been a bomb. It had been a brownie. A brownie that Martin had made for him. A brownie that had looked, in the brief moment where Jon had caught a glimpse of it, delicious. 

....

A poisoned brownie?

**Author's Note:**

> Martin left and ate the brownie just to spite Jon.
> 
> Next up: Jon goes back to his Zumba class.


End file.
